


Coloured Bricks

by TN_Night



Series: #JeanMarcoWeek2015 [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dorks, Drabble, JeanMarco Week, M/M, Painting, artist!jean, don't know what to tag, street art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4245066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TN_Night/pseuds/TN_Night
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean's a street artist and Marco likes his art. </p>
<p>Oh my gosh, why do I even bother with summaries.</p>
<p>Written for JeanMarco Week 2015, day 2 Paint :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coloured Bricks

**Author's Note:**

> A bit rushed, but you know, ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ c'est la vie. Not really. I'm rambling. I do that too much. Grr.

 

Jean looked left and right before settling down the black duffle bag next to him, unzipping it and pulling out two of the many colours of spray paint that were in there. It was late at night, or, more likely, early in the morning and pitch black outside, so even though he was standing just to the side of a normally busy street corner, there was nobody in sight. 

 

He turned to the red brick wall in front of him, a calculative expression on his face as he shook one of the cans and wondered what his latest piece would look like. Shrugging and deciding to wing it, he pulled the bandana from around his neck up over his mouth to ensure he wouldn't end up with colourfully painted lungs, and got to work. 

 

He started with the outline, covering up the original colour of his canvas with the black spray paint in neatly curved lines. Not really paying attention to what he was drawing in the first place resulted in the basic shape of a girl; deciding he could work with it, he began filling in his design. The image wasn't life-sized, but rather a little larger; Jean had to stand on the dumpster that was off to the side just to get to the top of where he wanted his image to be.

 

He'd probably been working on the design for a good hour, using different colours to create details and shadows on the girl's face and clothes before he finally deemed it nearly finished. He stood back to admire his work thus far, taking in the elegant curves of her face, the bright red colour of her long scarf and the beautiful raven hair that framed her jaw perfectly. 

 

Jean smirked, liking the position he'd chosen for the girl– her eyes looking down over her shoulder, back to the viewer. Her left hand just barely touching her lip while the other wrapped around her stomach, in a sort of contemplative position.

 

Sighing, he checked the time on his phone– two forty– and got back to work, drawing in her off-white dress and adding details to her face. Between breaks to assess his work and the constant additions of minor details, by the time he was finished it was nearly four in the morning. 

 

He began packing up his things, putting the paints back in the bag and pulling down the bandana before turning around and beginning to walk away.

 

But he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw someone leaning against the next apartment building over, just a few metres away, staring straight at him.

 

"Shit…" He murmured, slightly shrinking in on himself.

 

He was about to turn and run, but the stranger saw that and held up his hands.

 

"Oh, u-um, I'm sorry, I wasn't going to– I just…You looked so focused I didn't want to disturb you by going inside or anything," the other teen (Jean guessed) gushed out in a rush.

 

Jean visibly relaxed, looking off to the side and leaning back on his heals. 

 

"Sorry, didn't know anyone from here was out right now," he said and sighed, going back to walking past the dark haired male still standing feet away from him.

 

Just as he was about to walk around him, he heard the other say, "It's a gorgeous painting."

 

Jean stopped again, lifting his head and seeing that the other was staring at his piece in all its glory. 

 

He snorted lightly and murmured, "You're gorgeous," a little louder than anticipated, his face turned a light shade of pink as he looked away and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

 

They were silent for a bit, both looking off to the street or down at their shoes until a car horn beeped somewhere in the distance, startling them both back to reality. 

 

"So…" Jean started.

 

"Wanna go out sometime?"

 

He turned, eyes widening slightly at the faint blush across the other's freckled cheeks.

 

"Uh, yeah, that would be awesome," the artist said back, turning so the other wouldn't be able to see his own reddening face.

 

They exchanged numbers and briskly walked off to their respective homes which were, thankfully for the two awkward teenagers, in the opposite direction of one another.

 

 

–––––––=__=–––––––

 

 

About a week after Jean met the other boy, Marco, as he'd typed in his phone, he was still anxious to call him. He sat in his studio apartment (which he'd bought a year ago when he'd turned eighteen) on the couch by the large set of windows that covered the span of the entire wall, twirling his phone in his hands.

 

He was debating whether or not he should just text the other now, it was getting a little late and they could go out for dinner or something. 

 

He was still mulling over his greeting options when his phone buzzed, causing Jean to jump. He looked down at the still open screen and was met with a simple greeting.

 

_'Hey.'_

 

Jean sighed in relief. How convenient, now he didn't have to think up a conversation.

 

_'Hey :)'_

 

He hit send, wondering soon after if the smily face was a bit much when the phone buzzed in his hand again.

 

_'So…are you free tonight?'_

 

He smiled.

 

_'Yeah.'_

 

_'Great! I was wondering if you wanted to go grab some food with me, maybe?'_

 

_'Sounds good:D Wanna meet at the diner by your apartment then?'_

 

_'Sure! See you in an hour?'_

 

_'Yeah.'_

 

He didn't get anymore texts after that. Which was good, because even after only a few messages back and fourth, Jean got tired quickly of using correct grammar to impress the other.

 

Now just to get ready.

 

 

–––––––=__=–––––––

 

 

When Jean walked into the diner he saw that Marco was already there waiting for him. He weaved through the tables that were nearly completely unoccupied, making his way to the booth where the other sat, nursing the coffee in his hands.

 

"Hey," he greeted, plopping down in the bench across from the other.

 

"Hey," he said back before a waitress came and gave them menus, leaving them alone once again to talk.

 

Which they did, for several hours they talked back and fourth about their interests and about art in-between the idle chatter of their conversation. 

 

It was at about nine p.m that they finally realized they'd been talking for about four hours, making them both chuckle.

 

"Feels like we haven't been here long at all," Marco said, sipping at his third mug of coffee.

 

"Yeah, s'weird," Jean smirked.

 

They walked back to Marco's place together, hands brushing against each other on occasion, making the two blush and look down. 

 

When they got to Marco's apartment Jean looked over to the side wall, noting that his art wasn't there anymore. Marco noticed this and huffed angrily, a slightly pissed off expression on his face.

 

"They came and washed it off, I was so mad when they did it," he practically growled, "At least I got a picture of it before it was taken down."

 

Jean looked over to him, "You liked it that much?"

 

He blushed, "Well, yeah, it was an amazing painting."

 

Jean smiled, looking up to the now once again blank canvas, "I'll do another one." 

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Yeah."

 

 

–––––––=__=–––––––

 

 

Jean thought it was pretty amusing to see the tomato red face of his new boyfriend when the other saw he'd painted his face on the side of his apartment building. 

 

But neither said anything when he took another picture of it, as he did all of Jean's works.

 

 


End file.
